The scent of rich, damp soil and stacked logs. Forest fungi rising toward the light from between peeled bark. The mountains, treetops whispering to each other underneath the light rain. Cool stones wearing living ornaments of moss. A weathered old bridge tinged with green. It jiggles as I step across. Everything here lives and breathes with a calm, beautiful quiet, and I take in great lungfuls of it, a photographic scent memory of this day and place.